


ambition makes you look pretty ugly

by weeklyslap



Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Bombing, Brother-Figure-Schlatt, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Corruption AU, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Plans, Fire, Gen, Geographical Isolation, Heavy Angst, Heroes to Villains, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Soulmates, Plot Twists, Post-Election, Post-Wilbur-Going-Crazy, TNT, does canon divergence even fucking count im cruinfheh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeklyslap/pseuds/weeklyslap
Summary: (If Wilbur actually blew up Manberg @ the festival AU)Schlatt holds the Manberg Festival, Wilbur gets a taste of the real world, and Tommy finds himself caught in a whirlpool of emotions. When Wilbur and Tommy disagree on how to take back what's 'rightfully' theirs, they decide to go their separate ways. Equipped with only a rusty axe, his friends, and his discs, Tommy decides to abandon what is known as Pogtopia for a much greater cause: saving... Manberg?
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 204





	1. before the festival

**Author's Note:**

> TW // MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood, fire, explosions, graphic descriptions of injury
> 
> hey! thanks for picking this. im kol, the author!
> 
> a short q&a before you read: yes the title is from a radiohead song. BUT ALSO, this is split into two chapters! chapter one is an assortment of expositional scenes: stuff that happens before the festival. its a few short scenes that touch into every major character's pov. chapter two is the festival itself + the aftermath. if you only want the festival portion of the fic, GO TO CHAPTER 2!!! if you want exposition too, feel free to read both chapters <3
> 
> i really hope you enjoy!

“What a beauty, hm? Beautiful horse.” 

The blonde perked his head up, spotting a familiar figure walking from behind him. 

“Oh, it’s Techno’s. He doesn’t really know I’ve been riding it, so I’ve been trying to keep it in the most perfect condition for when he gets back. Doing stupid shit like brushing it’s hair and cleaning it’s hooves.” Tommy grumbled, his hand instinctively combing the horse’s hair. The brunette nods, his hand resting on the snout of the horse. The animal snorted under his touch, the brunette retracting his hand. “It’s just like Techno, too.” Tommy laughs, the man next to the horse staying quiet. 

Something… 

Something isn’t right.

Tommy looked back to the male beside him, who seemed to be examining the horse and it’s condition. “Are you alright, Wilbur? You’ve been quiet the whole trip back. Usually you’d scream about your problems and how to deal with them,” the blonde looked down at the scratched saddle beneath him, then back up to Wilbur, “but you’ve been acting odd today.” 

Wilbur couldn't help but chuckle, his body swaying slightly. “You know what I remembered, Tommy? It’s a fact about horses.” He murmured, Tommy’s posture straightening up. Wilbur’s hands alternate between his sides and his pockets, a light smile plastered on the brunette’s face. “Horses are a symbol of freedom without restraint. It’s funny, considering our situation, huh?” Tommy watched as the smile on Wilbur’s face was fixed into a much more neutral yet sinister expression, his eyes hooded. There didn’t seem to be an appropriate response- and Tommy always had something to say. He adjusted his seating on the horse’s back, hands still between the horse’s hair.

“You can’t keep beating yourself up over what happened at the election, Wilbur. We already decided we would take back what’s ours from those dickheads in office!” Tommy proudly smiled, his hands balling into fists. 

Wilbur didn’t reciprocate those feelings.

Tommy’s smile fainted into an unsure frown, his eyebrows furrowing. “Wilbur, we’re gonna get L’manberg back. Don’t worry about it- and we have Techno on our side! Ooh, and Dream! We’re set to win the war!” Tommy excitedly stated, the aforementioned brunette listening quietly. Tommy’s expression softened, moving his legs and jumping off the horse. He took small steps towards Wilbur, the brunette digging the dirt that blocked their home and walking inside. Tommy stepped over the small chunks of dirt that were on the ground, the horse outside awaiting it’s next orders.

“What’s bothering you, big man?” Tommy asked, standing patiently at the entrance of their home. Wilbur sat down on the bed, dried blood from his hands staining the orange bed sheets below him. Tommy looked down at the bed, then back up to Wilbur, his body frozen in place.

“Wilbur?”

The brunette looked up at Tommy, who was gazing back at him. 

“I’ve been doing some thinking.” Wilbur murmured, his tone much darker than Tommy remembers it. The blonde feels the hair on the back of his neck stick up, his body stuck still. The wind from outside feels a lot colder, as do his hands. The entrance to Pogtopia- to their home, feels a lot smaller than it should. 

“Take a look at Manberg, Tommy. They might have taken our nation from us, but- but I wasn’t too good of a leader myself. Schlatt’s running a festival, expanding borders, creating and enhancing communities- I never did that bullshit! I never took care of the nation the way I should have, and seeing my beautiful symphony being composed by someone else and seeing that… seeing that they’re composing it much better than I ever did, I can’t help but think…” Wilbur stops his train of thought for a second, his elbows on his knees and his bony hands interlocked. 

“I can’t help but think…?” Tommy attempted to usher Wilbur to finish his thoughts, the brunette shaking his head as he struggled to come up with the right words. He wiped his hands against the bed sheets, the dry blood already stuck to his hands. 

“I can't help but think that we’re the bad guys.” 

The room became dreadfully quiet. Tommy adjusted his posture, standing up straight by the entryway. Wilbur didn't care to look up, focused on the floor beneath him. The blonde watched as the brunette’s frown faded, a neutral expression glued to his face. There was no way Wilbur was serious, Tommy thought- Wilbur was the one that separated from the Dream SMP. He was the one who founded the nation, he was the one who brought it to victory- and he's convinced that they're the bad guys?

“We’re on the right side of history, Wilbur--” The brunette launched up, Tommy flinching at the sudden movement. “Tommy, we’re planning on overthrowing a legally obtained nation! The people voted and Schlatt just happened to have won. We just can't accept the fact that we don't have L’manberg anymore!” Wilbur hissed, Tommy’s eyes widening in response. Hostility was hinted in the brunette’s voice, his tone hurt and his words sharp. 

“Wilbur, that’s… what we’re doing is right. We’ve done so much for that country--” Wilbur’s hands slapped against his sides, gripping into the exteriors of his pockets. “Okay then, Tommy, you think what we’re doing is right?” Wilbur looked down at the floor beneath him, the tips of his boots chipped and painted with dried blood.

“Then- no, then let's be the bad guys.”

The blonde shook his head immediately, backing up until his back was pressed to the wall behind him. “Tommy-- why not, Tommy? Our nation is far behind us. I say,” Wilbur let out a small chuckle as he stopped speaking, running a shaky hand through his hair, “I say we blow that motherfucker to smithereens.” 

Tommy’s expression distorted into one of pure disdain. He eyed Wilbur carefully, yet intently, keeping an eye on his next move. “Wilbur, whatever you're thinking isn't--” The brunette groaned in agony, launching himself at the blonde and grasping onto his shoulders. “I say that if we can't have Manberg, no one--!” Wilbur’s grip intensified, Tommy’s eyes squinting in a painful manner, “then no one can have Manberg.” 

Tommy gulped, Wilbur examining his facial features one last time. He slowly detached himself from the blonde, who opened his eyes upon seeing Wilbur come back to his senses. Tommy looked down to his shoulders, Wilbur’s handprints coated in a dry blood staining his clothes. The brunette slowly stepped backwards, looking down at his hands, then back up at Wilbur. 

No apologies, no responses, nothing. 

Tommy gazed at the male, who took a deep breath. 

“L’manberg.” The blonde corrected.

Wilbur chuckled, shaking his head silently. “I think- I think we can take it back, because we lost it, but--” Tommy reasoned, the brunette signing in response. “This is a new era. We burn the place to the fucking ground- I want no crops to grow there ever again. I want mycelium, cobblestone, granite floors-- it’ll be a shit show!” Wilbur hissed, a grin on his face whilst sorting through his words. 

“What are you getting at, Wilbur!?” Tommy shouted, exasperated. 

“Tommy, let's be villains.” Wilbur states.

Tommy takes a few moments to think through the proposal, unsure of how to articulate his thoughts. On one hand, they would have made so many sacrifices for nothing- but on the other, they would make the single greatest act of patriotism in all of history. A lot was on the line, and Wilbur seemed to have already made his decision. 

“It's not a too far gone plan.” Tommy finally says, removing his hands from his pockets and keeping them by his side. “But we’ve made too many sacrifices to just- to just give it all up! You’re being reckless by destroying it- we can rebuild it!” He cried, Wilbur staring at him. “Oh, so you want us to overthrow Manberg? You want us to illegitimately rise to power again. There's no hope for us in this kind of situation- and when a man has nothing to lose, do you know what that means?” Wilbur softly asks, Tommy eyeing him.

“What does that mean.”

Wilbur smiles, extending his arms to his sides. “It means we can do what we want. We have a man on our side who literally rigged our nation with TNT. We can do the same to them, we can rig this festival with TNT- we can kill all of them! Have you not noticed that everyone is trying to convince us that they're on our side?! They're lying to us, man! I'm so sure that Tubbo would drop us the moment he gets the chance--” 

Tubbo?

Tommy closes his eyes, and his very first vision is that of his best friend, his closest friend, his ally-

Tubbo.

He feels lightheaded, his hands cradling his head while his fingers dug into his scalp. The world around him was spinning, but Wilbur stood still; the blonde’s back slid down the wall, the boy now sitting on the floor. It all felt like a bad dream- the idea of his bestest friend betraying him…

It was like a nightmare. A twisted, horrible nightmare.

“You can't trust anyone, Tommy! The whole world’s against us!” Wilbur shouted, Tommy shaking his head in response. All he heard was static, but Wilbur’s voice was crystal clear. The room felt small, and he felt even smaller. Wilbur slid down onto the floor, wrapping his arms around the blonde. “Let go of me! Let go!” Tommy cried, the brunette laughing into his shoulder. The blonde tried to escape, yet no matter how hard he tried, Wilbur was still there. Grasping onto him, laughing and crying into his shoulder, body cold and shaking. His hands were like ice, freezing anything they touched. 

The blonde let out an exasperated screech, his mind flashing imagery of everyone he knew betraying them. Wilbur whispered small nothings into his ear, messages of despair and disdain sugar-coated in a sweet, gentle tone. “Stop! Please!” Tommy brought his hands down to his ears, trying his best to block out everything that was being said to him. The longer Wilbur had hugged him, the more numb he felt, his loud cries turning into nothing but silent sobs. 

His breaths were jagged, as were Wilbur’s. 

Too much pressure, too much pressure, too much pressure, too much too much too much--

-

“Tommy!”

The blonde blinked slowly, allowing himself to come back to reality. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I lost you for a sec.” Tubbo gave a sigh of relief, Tommy sitting quietly on the bench. He looked around his surroundings, the buildings and attractions in the area seeming so familiar yet so foriegn. The huge duck in front of his base, Ninja’s house, the Path of Prime- it wasn’t his home anymore, it was Manberg. At the same time, he didn't consider the commune of Pogtopia to be his home, either.

This was all his home at one point, but times have changed.

“Fuckin’ hell, man, I just…” Tommy began to say, Tubbo looking at him for reassurance, “I was thinking about what had happened last night.” The brunette’s eyebrows furrowed in response, trying to remember what had happened last night. “How we lied to Schlatt about you being my gynecologist?” He softly asked, Tommy sliding away from Tubbo, his solemn expression distorting into one of disgust. “No! What the fuck!” He shouted, Tubbo giggling at his response. 

“Ugh, why’d you have to remind me? Now I have two things to be absolutely torn about.” Tommy exaggerated his reactions, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Tubbo waited until the blonde was ready to listen again, the brunette having his own comments regarding the situation.

“But for real, are you okay? You were talking about what had happened to Wilbur just a few minutes ago, then you got all quiet.”

Tommy blinked, his brain clicking when he remembered what they were talking about. 

“Yeah, I was thinking about what happened. I don’t… I don’t want to bother you with that kind of knowledge.” He murmured, Tubbo listening intently. “Is that why you didn’t go into specifics? I don’t mind whether or not you tell me what exactly happened, but… you seem pretty fixated on the idea of sticking on my side. I’ll assume it’s bad.” He sighed, Tommy nodding in response. “For starters, Wilbur went batshit crazy. Started talking about how everyone we knew would betray us, how the festival marks the start of a new era- just a lot of bullshit.” 

Tubbo slowly nodded, unsure of how to feel. “He went on about how we’re the bad guys- how we should embrace it. He wants to blow up L’manberg on the night of the festival, Tubbo!” Tommy sighed, the brunette by his side looking down to his lap, his hands balling into fists. “He’s completely changed from the leader he once was. For me to support someone like that is… it doesn't feel right.” Tommy mumbled, the brunette next to him crossing his arms.

“Well, you know how Wilbur is. He’ll do whatever his heart says he should do. He even said the same thing to you!” Tommy remembers that moment like it was yesterday. The phrase ‘Tommy, I want you to do what your heart says you should do’ stuck so firmly in his memory that it's something he was sure he couldn't forget if he tried. Tubbo made a good point here- and if Wilbur was going to follow his heart…

Tommy wanted to follow his own heart, too.

“It sucks because the festival was supposed to be a night filled with… filled with joy. I would deliver my speech, and we would dance and party all night long.” Tubbo sighed, Tommy unsure of how to feel regarding his words. “Did he say when he planned on placing the TNT? We could try to stop him before he gets the chance to.” Tubbo murmured, trying to come up with reasonable solutions. “Moreso, did he say when he would ignite it, come night of the festival?”

‘During your speech’ is what Tommy wants to say.

Yet, he can't find it within himself to tell that to Tubbo.

“All he told me was that he would make sure the festival would be the worst day of everyone in Manberg’s life. I was just letting you know what happened to him because I wanted you to have clarity on the situation.” Tommy whispered, Tubbo listening intently before nodding his head in response. “You can live with me for the time being! Schlatt rarely goes to my house, so you’ll be safe there.” He smiled, encouraging Tommy to smile, too. 

“That is, unless you want to go back to Pogtopia.” Tubbo eyed Tommy, his tone soft but eyes dark. Tommy looked behind him, past the Path of Prime, off to where Pogtopia would be.

Off to where Wilbur would be.

The blonde looked back at his friend, who patiently awaited a response. 

“Say, Tubbo, I forgot where your house is.” He smiled in return, Tubbo’s eyes glimmering upon the resolution. “It’s okay, man!” The brunette latched onto his friend’s hand, pulling him off the bench. “Hey-- Where are we going?!” Tommy shouted, Tubbo giggling in response. “My house, obviously! A lot has changed since you’ve last been here, Tommy, I’m so glad we have contact again.” He truthfully stated, Tommy running behind Tubbo, their hands still intertwined. 

The blonde looked behind him to where they were just sitting, his sight caught by a much more sinister sight.

A familiar figure stood at the end of the Path of Prime, cigar in hand. Tommy’s eyes widened, blinking again to see if he was seeing things. “Did something happen, Tommy?” Tubbo asked, turning his head to where the blonde was looking. 

The figure from before was gone.

“No, I just…” Tommy began to say, Tubbo awaiting his words, “I thought I saw someone.” He whispered, Tubbo nodding in accordance. 

“Let’s go,” he murmured, “my house isn’t too far away.”

-

The smell of gunpowder and sand was present within the commune. 

The brunette had gotten his hands on multiple objects and weapons that would aid him in his quest. His fingers were stained with the black powder, his hands smelling of ash. The TNT that Dream had given him laid motionless in his left hand, while a lighter laid motionless in his right. It felt too good to be real- the ability to blow up anything he wished was in his possession, and the more that time passed, the closer the festival was.

A hand pressed down onto his shoulder, Wilbur turning his head to see who had entered their makeshift home.

“Where did you get TNT from?” Techno asked, pointing to the items in Wilbur’s hand. 

“Dream handed me a stack of TNT. We… We came to an agreement.” He murmured, the pink haired male tilting his head in curiosity. “How much did I miss while I was gone, by the way?” He asked, Wilbur’s gentle smile contorting to a grin. “Oh, nothing much. I actually did some work- made a few new arrangements, you know the gist.” The brunette sighed, Techno looking around the interior of the entrance room before sitting down on the bed behind Wilbur. He looked down at the bed sheets below him, seeing handprints stained in dried blood stuck to them.

Techno gazed up to Wilbur, who had his back turned to him.

“Wilbur?” He softly said, the brunette turning around to face the pink haired male.

“What happened to Tommy?” 

Wilbur’s expression became a lot darker, Techno’s eyebrows furrowing before finally getting a grasp of what had happened. He looked down at the bed sheets, then back up to Wilbur, his eyes widening at the conclusion he made. He slid off the bed onto his knees, unbuckling the weapon holster around his thigh, swiping his knife into his hands and placing it up to the brunette’s throat. Wilbur’s dropped the TNT in his hands and reached for the dagger he carried, placing it to Techno’s own throat.

Wilbur and Techno’s chests heaved as a response to the conflict, a sharp pain stinging their Adam’s Apple as they gulped. Wilbur’s eyes were clouded, while Techno’s eyes were sharp. 

“For starters,” Wilbur breathed out, “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re thinking. We had a difference of opinion that resulted in him leaving. I swear, I…” Wilbur gazed down at the floor, unsure if he wanted to finish his train of thought. Techno pressed the tip of the knife into Wilbur’s throat, the brunette wincing in pain. “I want to see him, too! He left on his own free will!” He hissed, Techno’s eyes drifting away from the pained brunette. He lowered his knife from Wilbur’s neck, the brunette’s hands holding onto his neck to regain his breath.

Techno twisted the knife in his fingers, waiting until Wilbur was done rebuilding his composure to ensure he was listening to what he had to say. 

“What would make Tommy want to leave Pogtopia is my question. Did he betray us for Schlatt and Tubbo?” Techno asked, Wilbur slowly shaking his head. “We didn’t see eye to eye on how to resolve conflict regarding the festival.” 

The pink haired male seemed confused by the statement, Wilbur humming in response. “Ah, you don’t know about the festival, right?” Techno couldn’t help but laugh, placing his weapon back in it’s holster. “I’m not too caught up on the events, Wilbur. I came here to fight, remember? Light stuff on fire… Create anarchy… Blow stuff up…” Techno tried to remind the other male of his purpose for joining their cause, Wilbur’s face lighting up at his reasoning. 

“Well,” Wilbur began to explain, a stupid smile plastered on his face, “Schlatt announced that he’d be holding a Manberg Festival at the end of the week. It sounded perfect- I asked Tommy if we were doing the right thing by trying to overthrow Manberg’s government, he said yes, but I disagreed. I thought, maybe, just maybe, we were the bad guys that were interfering for the wrong thing. I was saying all the right things, Tommy got offended, and then he left. I don’t even know if he’s alive or not.” Wilbur sighed, thinking about the blonde.

“You- You let Tommy run off into the wilderness? Alone?!” Techno yelled, Wilbur looking down at his lap. 

“Actually, nevermind. He’s probably alive. Kid is a trooper, despite being as annoying as he is.” Techno truthfully stated, Wilbur not having the pride to laugh along with him. “I wouldn't worry about it, Wilbur. You know how Tommy is; he's like a boomerang. Your approval is validation to him- if he needs anyone's help, it's yours.” Techno reassured, raising his arms and stretching.

Wilbur sighed in response, his hands digging into his hair. “He won't be coming back. I… I said a lot of shit that didn't make sense to him.” The brunette murmured, Techno bringing his arms down and sitting quietly on the floor. “Are you not letting him use the TNT? I’m sure he's old enough to light it.” He questioned, Wilbur shaking his head. “He doesn't want to light it. Besides, I’ll most likely be doing this alone.” Techno’s attention piqued at the mention of the TNT being a solo project, Wilbur almost sure of the question Techno would ask.

“Tommy. The Agent of Chaos himself. He doesn't want to light TNT? Also, why would you be doing it alone?” Techno asked, Wilbur’s hands shaking as he reached for the TNT.

“I told him I’d blow up Manberg.” 

Techno stared at Wilbur, the brunette continuing to look down at the TNT in his hands. “Isn't that… That's the nation you formed with your blood, your sweat, your tears… You plan on blowing it up?” Wilbur glared at Techno, growing exhausted at having to explain himself. “Tommy reacted the same way too, you know.” He grumbled, Techno shaking his head. “It makes sense that Tommy would question it, Wilbur. It was his home, too. Not just yours.” Wilbur tsked in response to Techno’s words, looking down to his lips.

“Me, on the other hand, I didn’t grow up with Manberg. I’ll tell you this, Wilbur, and I won’t tell you again.” Techno softly said, Wilbur listening intently.

“I’m all for anarchy. If you want to dismantle all the systems…” he began to say, a dark glare in his eyes, “I’m okay with that. I didn’t exactly come here to make friends, anyway.”

Wilbur’s lifeless expression contorted into one of pure bliss.

“Do you mean that?” The brunette asked, handing the lighter to Techno, while the TNT laid in his hand. Techno ignited the lighter, the flame adding a gentle hue of orange to their faces. He placed the flame to the tip of the TNT, sparks slowly running down the wire. He raised his fingers and stopped the flame before they reached the base of the TNT, Wilbur and Techno sharing a silent look of agreement.

“Have I ever told a lie, Wilbur?” Techno asked, the brunette smiling pridefully. 

“Let’s go find Dream. I want my own stacks of TNT,” Techno pouted, standing up. Wilbur stood next to him, blood coursing through his veins.

-

The horned brunette looked in the mirror, fixing his posture and looks to ensure he was in his most comfortable state. His horns were polished- sharp, but not too sharp. He ran his fingers down the indents, dragging his hands down to the collar of his suit. He debated on tightening the tie, leaving it as loose as it was around his neck. His blazer was on the backrest of the chair he sat in, along with a few chains in it’s pocket. He sighed upon finalizing his appearance, looking at himself in the mirror again. 

What a long way he’s come.

Leaned back in his chair, the president examined his desk space. It was organized- a few rusted coins laid on the surface of the desk, with a few pins and badges by a single photo frame. Schlatt picked up the object, looking at it for a few seconds before laughing to himself. Behind the photo frame is a 4 page speech written by his right hand man that he was given to review- he had enough time before the festival to properly read it. He looks at the photo in the frame again, his eyes reading over the small note at the bottom: 

‘Wilbur & Schlatt: 7/27/19 xx’

They’re a lot younger in this photo- Schlatt hadn’t grown out his mutton chops yet, and Wilbur was just… Wilbur. They were happy in this photo, smiling for the camera while the water rose behind them. Schlatt felt unnerved looking at the photo. At some point, they were on ‘good terms’- they were able to freely speak to each other with no consequence. Now, the horned brunette had managed to take away Wilbur’s country, his people, and most importantly: 

His rights.

He turned the chair slightly to look out the floor-to-window glass walls behind him, a full view of his nation in front of him. The caravan where the first revolution was constructed and carried out- he remembered reading about it in Tubbo’s speech, laid destroyed and in shambles. The newly constructed flag proudly swayed in the air, glimmering despite it’s dark nature. Remains of where the walls once stood were stuck to the ground, some uncleaned debris still on the ground. The so-called ‘Path of Prime’ laid in pristine condition, apart from fresh mud tracks from a horse that was in the area. L’manberg, or now known as Manberg, was looking incredible.

What a long way they’ve come, indeed.

A month ago, he wasn’t even allowed in ‘L’manberg’, much less the Dream SMP. He had been a drifter- doing his own thing, living his own life. Spoke to a few women, went on a few entertainment shows- Schlatt was thriving in his own environment. Wilbur was his own dictator, priding himself as a man of the people despite being much the opposite. Schlatt couldn’t help but laugh- that so-called ‘man of the people’ had dug him and his blonde rat a grave 6 feet under. In the meanwhile, not only had he rightfully won the election for Wilbur’s country, he was also doing a much better job than the brunette could ever do.

Better housing? Border reform? For fucks sake, a festival? He was an incredible leader and he knew Wilbur was damn sure of it. It was truly funny- the closer Schlatt had examined the photo in his hand, the more he was able to grasp how far they’ve truly come. Schlatt has always been a businessman, a con- WIlbur has always been an entertainer- a musician.

Now, he didn’t like to make stereotypes, but one of them was destined for this position.

He put the photo frame down on the table, then sliding it into a separate cabinet. An array of photos in a folder listed ‘2019’ was sat in the middle of the cabinet, his fingers sifting through multiple images of him and his friends in their own community before finally arriving at ‘July’, placing the image beside it. He turned his head to face the nation, the flag standing strong in the windy weather. 

The brunette sighed, picking up the pieces of paper on his desk and reading over the words written. It felt more of a chore than a pleasure to read, his eyes scanning over the history of the country and feeling nothing but boredom. There was no doubt that it was well written, not at all- but most of the speech doesn’t include the parts after his reign, so he lost interest. Schlatt placed the papers on another side of his desk, making a mental reminder to tell Tubbo he was done looking over it. 

“Where is he, anyway?” The brunette grumbled, the appearances of two people out of the window catching his attention.

“Speak of the devil,” Schlatt murmured, watching the two figures intently to confirm his theory. Upon narrowing his eyes, there seemed to be a blonde boy being pulled around by a brunette, the blonde shouting in opposition while the brunette laughed in response. Put two ends together, and… 

The horned brunette grinned, turning away from the window.

-

The two boys sat under the flag, appreciating the silence rather than trying to break it. The grass was soft under their bodies, acting as a cushion while they admired the night sky above them. To Tommy’s left was the site of the Manberg festival, decorated with balloons, festival games, and seating arrangements, along with a nicely decorated throne for the president. 

To Tommy’s right: Tubbo.

The brunette’s face shined under the light that radiated from the flag, a gentle red tint on his face. Tommy looked away from his friend then back to the sky above them, the stars shining a bit brighter than usual. It felt weird to know this would all be gone tomorrow. The flag, the games, the statues, the buildings- it would all be blown up under Wilbur’s power. To Tubbo, Tommy was the bravest person he knew. To Schlatt, Tommy was the biggest nuisance he knew. To Wilbur, Tommy was the weakest person he knew. 

The idea of everything in Manberg crumbling down in front of him wasn’t a sight for sore eyes. His base on fire, the Path of Prime decaying, all of his friends dead under the weight of the debris- that’s what he was afraid of. Wilbur knew that- and he used it to his advantage. Tommy saw the stars shine a little brighter, coming back to reality by hearing Tubbo talking about how pretty the night sky was. 

It wasn’t going to stay like that.

“Tubbo,” the blonde began to say, the brunette turning to face his friend, “are you okay?” Tommy asked, the brunette giving himself a moment to think of an honest response. “I believe so,” Tubbo murmured, Tommy smiling at his answer, “are you okay?” Tommy looked away from Tubbo, closing his eyes as he fully processed what Tubbo asked him. He had always been told to answer honestly- but upon knowing what the potential fate of everything he worked for, it was hard to even pretend to be positive. Tommy sighed, his body stiff as he thought about the response he had in mind.

“I think I am, Tubbo.” Tommy murmured, Tubbo relieved to hear his conclusion. Upon opening his eyes, he was greeted with the same sight as before- the festival decorations, the throne- all of it was intact. He closed his eyes, then opening them again, repeating the process a few times. On his fifth time opening his eyes, the world around him was still in one piece. 

“Are your- are your eyes dry?” Tubbo asked, Tommy laughing in response. 

“I just wanted to make sure it was all real. The fear of waking up and this all being gone is…” 

Tommy watched as Tubbo sat up, the brunette latching onto his hand and pulling him up with him. Tubbo pulled Tommy in, wrapping his arms around him in a warm embrace. Tommy’s hands were extended, far too surprised to respond and hug back. “It’ll be okay, Tommy.” Tubbo assured, pulling away from the hug to look at the blonde. Tommy seemed a mixture of every emotion at once, all of which were conflicting with each other. The blonde looked into Tubbo’s eyes, asking once again for reassurance. “We have each other, remember? You were the one who said that.”

Tommy looked at his hand, then to Tubbo’s hand. He placed his hand in the brunette’s, shaking hands. ‘You’re right.” He murmured, a light smile growing on Tubbo’s face. 

“I should have told you this earlier, but… Wilbur plans on blowing it all up during your speech, specifically.” Tommy mumbled, his hand becoming limp in Tubbo’s hand. 

“I’m not scared,” Tubbo began to say, “because we have each other. In the case that things go bad, we just… run away.” Tubbo seemed serious with his words, as was Tommy. 

“If this is truly the end…” Tommy sighed, unsure of how to phrase his next few thoughts.

“I had a hell of a lot of fun, man.” 

Tubbo looked up to Tommy, who sat quietly. Tubbo joined him in the silence, the pair appreciating the quiet that surrounded them.


	2. the festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit goes down
> 
> tw for blood, death, explosions, swearing(?), weapons

The horned brunette looked around his surroundings, prideful as he tightened up his red tie. After weeks fooling around in office and minding his business, the day of the festival had finally arrived. Schlatt smiled, looking down at the collection of papers on the lectern, certain speeches labelled with a sticky note to clarify whose work was whose. There were a few pens next to the packets of paper alongside the microphone, Schlatt tapping the head of the microphone to ensure that it was working. The brunette nodded in accordance, deciding to look at his surroundings one last time before speaking.

To his left was his right hand man, Tubbo. His eyes were clouded, looking off into the distance. To his right was his vice president, Quackity. He noticed the male was sporting a new beanie in accordance with the dress code. In front of him was the crowd of citizens under his rule- some of which were excited for the festival to start, while some of which were dreading the fact they were even here. Manburg looked absolutely stunning- how did Wilbur describe the country?

Ah, he remembered. His unfinished symphony.

Schlatt couldn’t help but laugh. 

Tubbo gave a thumbs up, Schlatt allowing himself to begin speaking. He cleared his throat before anything else, sitting down on the Netherite throne behind him. “If it's okay with you guys, would you mind speaking in a higher pitch of voice? Makes mine sound deeper.” Schlatt joked to the two men at his side, Quackity saying phrases in a high voice for the bit. Tubbo stood quietly, lost in thought. Schlatt heard someone in the audience laugh- who was that, Fundy? The brunette chuckled in response, his hands clapping together.

“Hello, everybody! Welcome to the festival of Manberg! Manberg festival! Yeah!” Schlatt shouted, stopping himself to allow the audience and men at his side to give their praises. “Yes sir! Yes sir!” Quackity smiled, clapping in response. There was a multitude of cheering and ‘yeah’s in the crowd, Schlatt smiling in gratitude. “I’ve invited all the citizens of Manberg along with some very close friends of mine to enjoy the festivities that this nation- somethin, I don't know- basically, I just want to throw a party. I enjoy those. So I decided to put one together for you all!” 

The crowd roared in applause once again, a look of pride plastered on Schlatt’s face. 

“We can just party for a while! That's what parties are all about.” The brunette smirked, looking into the crowd again. He was so sure that he could say whatever he wanted and would get a positive response in return. He tapped his fingers against the lectern, a sly grin replacing his gentle smile.

“Let me get a democracy in 3! 1, 2, 3!” 

The crowd erupted in a chain of ‘democracy’, a few claps afterward. “God, I love Minecraft.” Schlatt murmurs.

Across the podium in one of the buildings stood two outsiders. Both of which were not permitted to enter the festival for reasons ranging from the fact that they were banished from the country to the fact that they were literally planning a terrorist attack.

Tommy watched as Schlatt got down from the podium, pride in his walk as Quackity and Tubbo followed him down the steps. He looked confident- his horns polished and hair combed back, along with his suit tailored and brand new. The blonde turned to face Wilbur, who was looking towards the crowd with pure disgust. 

“Don't do anything stupid, Wilbur.” Tommy murmured, standing next to the brunette. He was in the same condition he was in a mere week ago- his hair disheveled and eyes clouded. This was Tommy’s hero, his role model, his savior- but Tommy didn't even recognize Wilbur. “They all look happy, Wil,” The blonde reasoned, looking into the crowd.

Niki was down below, her foot tapping against the floor. She sat down whilst everyone left for the festival booths, a look of despair on her face. Behind her was the assortment of festival booths and activities, the main attraction being the boxing mat in the middle of them all. In the ring was the president, Schlatt, fighting with an axe against his vice president, Quackity, who was fighting with a crossbow. The crowd cheered and clapped in accordance with the fight, the president showcasing his fighting abilities that he’s kept stored away.

Fundy was among the crowd, cheering and cracking jokes that were almost perfectly timed. Other Manberg citizens simply watched the fight and gave the same generic responses of cheers and claps, Tubbo acting as the ringleader for the boxing match. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Tommy asked once again, Wilbur’s hands combing through his hair. “Fuck, Tommy, I don’t- I don’t know!” The brunette snapped, Tommy’s eyes widening at Wilbur’s tone. “We can take it back, man! We don’t have to do anything tonight!” Tommy mumbled, the wind slowly starting to pick up as the sun started to set. Wilbur let out a shaky sigh, sorting through his thoughts before finally coming to a conclusion.

“This is the perfect opportunity to go through with this plan, Tommy! If I don't blow it up now, then when? When will I blow it up?!” Wilbur hissed, an expression of disdain on Tommy’s face. 

“We don't have to blow it up,” he mumbled, “yet.”

The pair looked down towards the crowd once again, standing tall in the cold wind. “Look how happy everyone is. Even Tubbo,” Tommy’s breath hitched upon seeing his friend amongst the crowd, a lovely smile on his face, “Tubbo’s having a great night. Look at him in his little suit.” Tommy pointed towards the brunette, Wilbur cursing under his breath. “Look at how happy he is to be here, Wilbur!” Tommy urged once again, Wilbur’s hands digging into his hair as he thought over the situation one more time. 

Wilbur sighed, tugging at his hair. “If I don't do it now, what happens if this is the only chance I get?” He murmured, Tommy gazing at him with caution. “Everyone's together, we can do some proper damage, it'll be perfect!” Wilbur murmured, the pair watching as the boxing matches continued. 

“I told you I’d blow up Manberg during Tubbo’s speech.” Wilbur softly said, Tommy carefully listening. “I gave him a codeword that he could recite during the speech that would give me full reign of going to the TNT room and blowing it all up. Realistically,” Wilbur sighed, “this all lays on Tubbo’s decision on whether or not he feels comfortable blowing it up.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened in response, his hands latching onto Wilbur’s shoulders and shaking the elder male. “Why? This isn't his journey, this is your mess, Wilbur!” He cried, Wilbur unfazed by this newfound passion. “Exactly why you trying to convince me of doing otherwise tonight won't change my mind.” Wilbur hissed, shoving Tommy away. The pair stood in silence, watching the crowd below them cheering and laughing: having fun. Tubbo seemed to be speaking to Schlatt, the horned brunette nodding in accordance to whatever Tubbo was saying. Schlatt seemed to call out to everyone else now, the only words that Tommy could hear relating to a speech of some sort.

Tubbo’s speech. 

The blonde looked up to Wilbur, who seemed focused on the situation at hand. The sounds of laughing from down below caught Tommy’s attention, Wilbur patting his arm. The sight of Schlatt and Tubbo holding hands and swinging their arms while walking down the path together made Tommy a combination of scared, relieved, and angry. He watched as they finally made it back to the podium, Schlatt carefully stepping up the stairs alongside his right hand man. Schlatt walked back towards his throne, his hands pulling the microphone upwards so that it reached a proper height.

He tapped the tip of the mic, testing the sound quality. “I know… I know I like to make fun of Tubbo for all the shit he does wrong. He fucks up a lot- we can all agree on that.” Schlatt began to say, his voice echoing throughout the festival. “But at the end of the day, Tubbo’s the one who made this all possible. I just come in once a week for the bit, but Tubbo… he’s working all day, putting this shit together, and I really don’t know where we’d be today without him.” Schlatt smiled, waving to Tubbo who sat proudly beside him. His eyes were glimmering, the boy absolutely engulfed in the praise- he kept looking at Schlatt to see what else he had to say. 

“Oh, well… Thank you Schlatt.” Tubbo softly mumbled, Schlatt’s hand ruffling Tubbo’s neatly combed hair. “So when he asked me if he could give a speech on how great this country is, how could I possibly say no? So without any further ado, I’ll put big man Tubbo, my right hand man, my protege, to spit some bars!” Schlatt murmured, standing up from his throne to begin making way for Tubbo. The crowd clapped in response, Niki whistling for Tubbo. The brunette moved into the netherite throne, lowering the mic so he could speak.

Tommy and Wilbur watched as Tubbo spoke, mentioning a variety of things ranging from how they’re free from dictators to how beautiful Manberg is without the walls. Tommy couldn’t help but be disgusted at the words coming out from his friends mouth, while Wilbur simply looked onwards in interest. “So with that in mind, I’d like to thank everyone for coming to this wonderful event!” Tubbo smiled, the crowd silent.

Except for one.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of a calm Schlatt, small chuckles leaving his mouth. The horned brunette slapped his knee, looking up to Tubbo. “Schlatt, is there something wrong?” Tubbo asked, the elder shaking his head in response. “I was just thinking about it, Tubbo. Anything else in the speech, are you done?” Schlatt asked again, a hint of aggression in his voice. The president gave a few pieces of concrete to the vice president, Quackity nodding as he understood what was about to go down. Schlatt and Quackity placed the concrete on either side of Tubbo, who was now stuck on the throne between the newfound walls.

“Schlatt, what are you-- what are you doing? Schlatt?” Tubbo asked, his voice slowly raising in concern. 

Tommy gazed up at Wilbur, then back to Tubbo, then back to Wilbur. Wilbur seemed confused himself, the cold exterior he had chipping away as he slowly grasped what was happening. “Wil, what’s happening to Tubbo,” Tommy quietly asked, Wilbur placing a reassuring hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Schlatt seemed maniacal, yet composed, as if he was on the verge of letting it all loose. The nurturing persona, the guiding persona, the calm persona- they were all breaking down, allowing the president’s truest colors to show. 

“I’ll cut to the fucking chase, Tubbo.” Schlatt lowly murmured, a slight growl in his voice. “Tell him, pres, tell him!” Quackity smiled, Tubbo exchanging looks between the two older men. “It really sucks for me to say this in front of everyone, but…” The president takes a long sigh, followed by an even longer silence. Tommy didn’t even know he was holding his breath up until he had fully lost it.

“I know what you’ve been up to.” 

Tommy’s eyes widened, while Tubbo quickly stood up from the throne. Wilbur slowly backed away from Tommy, the blonde too focused on the situation at hand to notice the brunette making his exit. 

“You’ve been conspiring with the… with the idiots! The tyrants! That we banished from this great country… Tubbo, I don’t know if you know this, but treason isn’t exactly a… respectable thing around here.” Schlatt softly said, Tubbo gazing up to where Tommy was. The two boys stared at each other for what felt like months, years, all until Schlatt got their attention again.

“It all adds up, buddy! The fucking tunnels, the absenses, the lack of care for this country, so don’t say that you’ve done nothing wrong.” Schlatt hissed, pushing his pointer finger into Tubbo’s chest. There was an elongated period of silence: Tommy balling his hands into fists, Tubbo trying to understand what was about to happen to him, and Quackity watching it all unfold in front of him. 

“Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” Schlatt quietly asked, the smaller brunette slowly shaking his head. The horned brunette shook his head, his hand ruffling around with Tubbo’s hair once again. 

“Nothing good.” 

Schlatt turned around, using his hand and gesturing a certain person in the audience to come further. 

Wilbur saw who stood up, the brunette falling onto his knees in disbelief. Tommy felt his jaw fall wide open, his hands shaking under the pressure of the moment. Wilbur felt his hands creep up to his face, cradling and pressing his fingers into his head as he examined the situation. Tommy watched as the pink haired man in the Netherite armor walked up to the podium, a crossbow in hand. 

“Now, Technoblade, if you wouldn’t mind… showing our friend what happens to traitors.” Schlatt gestured to Tubbo, who’s eyes widened upon seeing who had come up the steps. He shook his head, pressured tears falling down his cheeks. Tommy watched in horror as his friend cried out in agony, his hands tugging on the fencing that kept him bound inside the concrete. Quackity watched as the teen broke down in front of him, looking up to Schlatt for reassurance. “Pres, we already have him incarcerated, isn’t this enough?” He softly asked, a look of fury in Schlatt’s eyes.

“That’s not enough!” He spat out, Quackity slowly backing up. 

Tommy watched quietly, his brain not able to understand how this was all happening. Everything he heard was staticky and muffled, his body only focused on the situation unfolding in front of him. The blonde looked over to where Wilbur once stood, even more shocked to see the brunette completely gone. He saw Wilbur heading down the hill by the White House, abandoning his trenchcoat and leaving it on the floor. Tommy kept looking between the incident at the podium and behind it, his body shaking as a result of this newfound emotion: fear.

“I’m… really sorry. I’m really sorry, Tubbo,” Techno softly said, his hair done in a ponytail for the event (but was more of a loose one at this point). He seemed perfect- the crossbow in his hand glimmering with an assortment of magic and power skills, a firework embedded into the arrow. His regal cloak was cleaned, along with his polished boots. Tommy examined him, watching as he slowly prepared himself for the aim, placing the arrow between Tubbo’s head. Techno’s breathing was hitched, and Tubbo’s body was shaking, and Tommy was frozen in place.

“Tubbo!” Niki screamed from behind, Tommy preparing to throw an ender pearl. 

An explosion came from behind the White House. 

Techno fell backwards, the arrow missing the head and instead aiming for the heart. As his skin pierced and the blood exploded from his chest, Tubbo’s eyes blew open. The brunette let out a piercing screech, falling to the floor of the podium, his hands tugging at the arrow but to no avail. Tommy felt himself screaming, the inability to hear himself not stopping him at all. Tommy threw a pearl to the podium, a gust of wind pushing the flames and the ash closer towards them. The blonde could see the faint figure of a horned man running away from the scene, too focused on the sight in front of him to focus on anything else.

A line of explosions came from the ground underneath the path connecting the podium and the festival, the people in the crowd screaming as a result of the trauma. Techno had fallen straight on his back, watching as the clouds became a distorted grey in the night sky. Bright lights of orange and yellow mixed together to create a beautifully sinister sunset hue, Techno struggling to keep his eyes open. Some part of him was telling him to get up: to get his weapons and find his friends, but something about the gunpowder and ash stained grass beneath him felt too good to depart from.

Swimming through a sea of bodies, Niki desperately tried to latch onto any form of life she could find, her heart beating faster and faster at the sight of the familiar fox-eared boy across from her. She slowly crawled towards Fundy, tears streaming down her sore face. The heat from the explosion was starting to get unbearable, her body on the verge of giving up entirely. “Fundy! Fundy, Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re safe--” She cut herself off once she finally got a glimpse of the male, his lifeless body on the floor. Niki quickly turned her head, the faces of all her friends dead flashing through her mind. She leaned down on the grass, sobbing at the thought of it being true.

The flames only continued to grow stronger and larger, the buildings and homes that they once called home going down with the fire. The white house, the festival booths, the Path of Prime- all of it was coming down. The newly constructed flag had fallen off it’s pole, burning up until it became nothing more than a pile of ash. The lifeless and injured bodies continued to pile up, smoke falling from the sky. All of Manberg was on fire, and the aftermath of explosions and the raging fire was definitely not giving the nation a break. 

It looked like something out of a movie. The fire, the smoke, the decay of this ‘great’ nation Tommy couldn’t believe it was real. He couldn’t believe that Wilbur actually fucking did it.

Tommy had his hands placed on Tubbo’s chest, the blonde unsure of whether to pull the arrow out from Tubbo’s chest or keep it in. Tommy used his arms to hold Tubbo up, the boy’s head buried in his left arm and his own arm on Tubbo’s stomach. Tommy studied the boy’s condition, a deep red stream of blood pouring out from the hole in his chest. His suit was undone, his tie somewhere on the ground below him. The wooden floor of the podium soaked in Tubbo’s blood, the sight of his friend bleeding out causing an immeasurable amount of pain for Tommy. 

Tommy dug into his personal inventory, trying to find anything that could heal Tubbo- golden apples, potions of healing, carrots-- but to no avail. He watched as the life in Tubbo’s body seeped out, Tommy shaking his head and holding onto his friend like he was holding on to his life. Despite the fire and smoke, his body felt cold, Tommy leaning in closer to properly look at Tubbo’s face. His cheeks were stained with gunpowder, a thin layer of blood from a busted lip coating his chin. His hair wasn’t parted, but rather an all around tangle of knots. 

Tubbo weakly raised up his hand, grabbing onto Tommy’s hand before the blonde could try to pick out the debris from his hair. Tommy’s concerned face contorted into one of confusion, Tubbo using all his strength to shake his head. “Tubbo, you’re hurt!” Tommy croaked, his voice coming out more as a whisper rather than a shout. The pair’s voices were strained, but silence was always better than screaming.

“I know, Tommy,” Tubbo murmured, his hand falling off Tommy’s. The wind was starting to die down, which would ultimately allow the fire to continue burning. “You’re going to get hurt if you stay here too long, too.” Tubbo used his strongest hand to point upwards, Tommy quickly looking to what Tubbo was referring to. The fire had already reached the podium, the structure of the building being no match for the strong explosions and the fire it brought. 

Tommy looked past the podium, turning around and looking into the crowd. Lines of lifeless bodies were piled one on top the other, the sights of familiar colleagues and friends sending the blonde into a frenzy. The fire had burned everything in its path- Tommy couldn’t even recognize Manberg anymore. Wilbur wasn’t lying when he said he wanted no crops to grow there ever again. He wasn’t lying when he wanted a mixture of mycelium, cobblestone, and granite floors-- he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted the Manberg festival to be an absolute shit show.

He meant it when he said if he can’t have L’manberg, then no one can. 

“I can’t just leave you here to die, Tubbo! I’m not a fucking idiot!” Tommy hissed, Tubbo quietly looking at Tommy. The blonde looked down to see the brunette gazing at him, looking away. “Don’t fucking look at me, man…” He whispered, Tommy’s attention caught by groans of pain. Tubbo cried out in agony, using all his strength to sit up. Tommy almost forgot to help him up considering how he kept staring at the brunette in confusion, his mind trying to come up with a reason as to why Tubbo would use up all his strength just to sit up. 

Then, it hit him. 

Tommy felt arms wrap tightly around him, the blonde’s eyes widening at the action. Tubbo smelled like a mixture of everything at once- the sweetness of honey, the brutality of sweat, the poison of smoke-- Tubbo went through every single roadblock at once and still managed to come out alive (albeit with an arrow and a firework in his chest). Tommy didn’t care that the arrow was poking into his own skin at this point, the blonde slowly finishing the hug. “I can’t… I can’t just leave you, Tubbo.” 

Tommy heard the brunette chuckle, too exhausted to push Tubbo off of him and examine what was going on. 

“You said it yourself the other day,” Tubbo began to mumble, “that we are the only people who will look out for each other. I have your back and you have mine, remember? We’re always gonna be together whether you like it or not, Tommy.” Tubbo softly explained, Tommy feeling tears well up in his eyes. 

“Yeah.” Tommy softly mumbled, Tubbo letting his body fall back on the floor of the podium, the brunette laying in a pool of his own blood.

“Promise we’ll always be together?” Tubbo asked again, his voice more strained than before. Tommy only nodded, Tubbo giving a thumbs up in return. He extended his pinky, Tommy gazing at Tubbo’s hand, then to the brunette.

“Pinky promise.” Tubbo murmured, Tommy silently laughing and giving in, intertwining his pinky with Tubbo’s.

“Pinky promise, man.” Tommy softly stated, the sight of Tubbo smiling easing his concerns.

Tommy felt the grasp on his hand weaken, before Tubbo’s hand completely fell back onto his chest. The blonde stared at his friend, Tommy feeling toxic tears run down his cheeks. He leaned forward, laying his head down on Tubbo’s still chest.

-

The sky never looked prettier. Wilbur watched as the sun rose from across the horizon, the gentle tints of orange and yellow clashing together to create a beautiful mix of the two colors. 

The brunette found himself on top of his right-hand man’s base, the remnants of smoke and debris from the festival last night just within his range of visage. He could see the destruction- the chaos that had poured out as a result of him pressing that damn button. The moment he knew Tubbo would be shot, adrenaline coursed through his system- like his body was telling him to do this. Wilbur shuddered at the idea that he was single-handedly responsible for the destruction of the nation he created with his bare hands, still unable to acknowledge that this was the conclusion he wanted.

He openly wanted to be the bad guy. 

Why was he regretting it?

No, he didn’t regret it. He got what he wanted, and he gave them what they deserved- since he couldn’t have Manberg, then nobody could. The once prosperous nation stood in shambles, the big buildings and bright decorations were nothing more than an ashy grey. It looked depressing, yet disgusting, his lips curling into a soft smile upon realizing that he couldn’t recognize anything in Manberg because it all burned down. He finally managed to get rid of all his inconveniences and his doubts-- maybe it was worth it. Maybe pressing that red button was worth it. Maybe killing everyone he knew for the sole sake of self-satisfaction was worth it. His lovers, his colleagues, his best friends and enemies-- maybe killing them all was worth it. 

“You’re thinking hard, loverboy.”

Wilbur flinched, his head turning around immediately at the familiar voice.

And there he stood.

The horned brunette was in a much more jagged state than Wilbur was- although Wilbur had cuts on his cheeks and body with a few bruises scattered around, Schlatt looks like he was buried alive. His hair was extremely messy, his once slicked back hair now parted and getting in the way of his face. The tip of one of his horns had chipped off, dried blood and bone in place of the tip. His suit blazer was missing and he was instead wearing only a white button-up. The sleeves were rolled up, displaying a numerous amount of bruises and burns. 

“How the fuck did you survive?!” Wilbur hissed, standing up and grabbing ahold of Schlatt to make sure he was real. Schlatt allowed the other male to grasp onto him, closing his eyes in response. “No way I’d die to a fuckin’ explosion, Wilbur. After all we’ve been through,” Schlatt began to say, Wilbur's eyes widening once realizing what turn the conversation was about to take, “you think you could get rid of me that easily?” Schlatt hissed, punching Wilbur right in the stomach.

“Motherfucker really blew up an entire country just to get rid of me.” Schlatt smiled, too tired to laugh. “We overcame climate change on two separate occasions, Wilbur! Two! Not only that, but when we survived raining TNT? You must be really fucking dense.” The horned brunette cackled, coughing afterward due to a lack of air. Wilbur was recovering from the punch, gazing up at Schlatt with an expression of pure fury. 

“Come lay down with me, Wilbur. Must be exhausting standing all day,” Schlatt calmly said, laying down on the top of Tommy’s base. 

The pair laid down next to each other, watching as the sun slowly rose. “How’d you live?” Wilbur asked again, Schlatt smirking in response. “I heard beeping from under the floor. It would make sense that you wired the explosions all throughout Manberg, so when the hill behind the White House exploded, I knew the spots next to the podium were next. I briefly saw Tommy and Tubbo, but the pressure of the explosion knocked me further back away from the site.. I hid in Tubbo’s ‘archive’ and treated my wounds using the books he keeps in there.” 

Schlatt’s response infuriated Wilbur. It made sense, but it infuriated Wilbur.

“Do you know if anyone else lived?” Wilbur softly asked, a moment of silence between the two. It was uneasy to sit in silence with your fated rival, especially after a multitude of assassination attempts on both sides. Schlatt sighed, placing his arms behind his head so they acted as comfort for his head. Wilbur watched him patiently, the other male looking back at him. 

“You’re real fuckin complicated, you know that?” Schlatt hissed, Wilbur looking in confusion.

“First, you blow everything and everyone up with the sole intention of making Manberg a shit-hole. Next, you want to know the status of everyone involved?” Schlatt asked, Wilbur looking away in shame. “I didn’t even think it would work, but holy shit… there were bodies piled on bodies, Wil.” Schlatt murmured, Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowing at his words. 

“You didn’t think what would work, exactly?” Wilbur questioned, a grin spreading on Schlatt’s face. Schlatt slowly stood up, his hands in the pockets of his pants. He turned around to look at the sunrise once again, then back to Wilbur. 

“I never really liked parties, Wilbur.” Schlatt murmured, Wilbur’s eyes widening at his words. “I always knew you did, though. You love parties- you love adrenaline just as much as a crackhead loves cocaine. Naturally, seeing your gradual decrease in stability… It benefited me.” Schlatt admitted, Wilbur staring at the brunette in front of him. “You… wanted this to happen?” Wilbur mumbled, Schlatt shaking his head. “I wanted you to be the cause for the birth and death of this nation, I just… never thought you’d go through with it this way.”

Wilbur’s eyes widened, the male sitting up to properly process what he just heard.

“It was a pleasure running with you, Mr. Soot.” Schlatt hissed, Wilbur staring off into the distance. He watched as the horned brunette walked away, pride and power in his stride. He could hear his chuckle gradually turn into a cackle, Wilbur laying down.

The sky was… tolerable.

The clouds were mixed in with the smoke of the fire, a dark shadow overcasting the area. Wilbur wasn’t able to process the information he had just received, the goodbye he had been given-- the conclusion to a war he was supposed to win.

Wilbur’s head perked up to the sound of footsteps on the Path of Prime below, his body jolting up. 

It was Techno’s horse- it’s hair greasy and messy. Its hooves were stained with blood and mud, It’s skin burned and it’s condition as a whole weak. Wilbur kept looking at the horse, a smile finding a way onto his face.

“What a beauty,” Wilbur whispered, “such a beautiful horse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if i made you cry or laugh
> 
> writing the angst in terms of tubbo/everyone dying was so heartbreaking yet so funny because i was just writing tommy sobbing over tubbos death when i realized that this is fucking MINECRAFT. they can respawn. i wrote like 4k of angst and for what man? so they can come back at their bed point? GTFOOOOOOO /J
> 
> also in case you couldnt tell by my rampant descriptions and inclusions of the wilbur and schlatt challenge vids: I WAS AN SMPLIVE FAN!!!!! i shit myself when schlatt ran for president LMAO how was i not gonna include lore about that. favorite challenge vid is the water rising one bc ........ how would it not be
> 
> also sorry for making schlatt a hot villain im a lesbian writer with hot villain syndrome I'm conditioned to make all my antagonists designs hot /hj
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! lol smile


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